


from this moment

by jeyhawk



Series: From This Moment [1]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-08
Updated: 2010-04-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeyhawk/pseuds/jeyhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes doing the right thing really sucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from this moment

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to [from this moment (you are the one)](http://jeyhawk-fic.livejournal.com/69609.html).

  
Adam's not there when Kris gets back to the room and in a way he's grateful. It makes it much easier to pack his bag, carefully folding shirts and jeans lining them up in neat rows. He empties out the laundry, collects all the bits and pieces lying about the room and stuffs everything into the bag lying open on his bed. It doesn't take half the time he thought it would - this place feels like home but in reality his presence is easily erased. Pick up the clothes, the stuff from the bathroom counter and the picture frame set up on the nightstand, and it's like he never even was there.

He hesitates for a moment over the pictures taped up around the edge of the mirror, of him, of Adam, of him and Adam and the rest of the top ten. He wants to grab them all and keep them as a memento, faces and actions etched into his heart already, but in the end he leaves them for Adam, because Adam still belongs.

He packs his guitar last and that more than anything makes it real that he's leaving. It's over, it's all over, and there's an empty space where his heart ought to be. He knows he made the right decision, the only decision, but that doesn't stop his heart from breaking. When everything is packed, bags closed and ready to be carried out to the car, he sits down to wait. There's no way he's leaving without saying goodbye, God knows he owes Adam a whole lot more than that.

When Adam finally shows up he barely has time to get the door closed before Kris launches himself into his arms. Adam catches him easily, squeezing him hard and sure like Kris knew he would.

"You're back," he says, pressing his face against Kris's hair.

He doesn't ask, not about Kris's dad, not about anything, he just holds on tight letting Kris shiver against him with his face buried into Adam's neck. Kris's eyes sting and his heart wants to beat its way out of his chest. He knew this would be hard, he just had no idea how hard.

"Thank you," he murmurs inanely against Adam's skin and it means more than it should.

It's not just about Adam driving him to the hospital in the middle of the night and staying up until the wee hours of the morning to keep Kris company through random text messages, it's so much more than that. It's about the way he feels safe in Adam's arms, about the way Adam's voice sounds like home, and the way their hearts seem to beat in sync. It's about the way Adam means a whole lot more to Kris than he should, and it's about the way Kris doesn't know how he'll be able to leave all of this behind. It's about everything because that's what Kris has let Adam become.

He finally pulls away, taking a deep breath to compose himself and giving Adam a bleak smile. He should say a lot more than thank you, but the words back up on his tongue and inanely he thinks about Katy sitting with him in the hospital – the way she clung to his hand and the way she cried as if it was her dad hovering between life and death.

"How is he?" Adam asks, hands cupping Kris's biceps.

"He's going to be fine," Kris says. "It'll take time, but he's going to be fine."

Adam smiles, squeezing Kris's arms harder and Kris finally lets himself believe in his own words, some of the tension seeping out of his body. Then Adam looks up, eyes widening slightly when he spots the bags on Kris's bed, and for a moment his fingers dig in hard enough to hurt.

"You're leaving," he says, and it's not an accusation, not even close, but it still feels like one.

"It's the right thing to do," Kris says and somehow he expects Adam to protest. Adam's the kind of guy who believes in making your own destiny and grabbing opportunity by the balls. Kris doesn't expect him to get family, obligations and giving up your dream because you have to, but Adam just nods like he expected to less.

Kris tears his gaze away, staring at their feet. They're standing close enough that Kris's scuffed Converse almost touch Adam's snake skin boots and he moves one of his feet, touching it to Adam's boot in a simile of a kiss. Adam laughs, rubbing his hands over Kris's arms.

"Did you just make our shoes kiss?" he asks, and it tears Kris apart, the way Adam just gets it.

"Yeah," Kris says, making himself look up again with a blush staining his cheeks. "Yeah, I did."

He doesn't know what Adam sees in his eyes, because he can't put a name to what he's feeling right now, but for a long heart-stopping moment he thinks that Adam's going to kiss him. Then Adam shakes his head once and pulls Kris into another hug.

"I'll miss you, Arkansas," he says and Kris squeezes his eyes shut. He always liked that nickname, even though it doesn't make sense. Kris's mom comes from Arkansas, and he lived there during his brief stint in college, but he's got his roots right here in California.

"I'll miss you, too," he murmurs into Adam's shirt and he thinks that maybe the truth to that statement says more about him than it should. 


End file.
